


The Shadeless Throne

by Golbez



Series: Shadeless and Endless [2]
Category: Battle B-Daman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Bad Future, Eventual Romance, Future Fic, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Resistance, Warnings May Change, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24768103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golbez/pseuds/Golbez
Summary: Ten years after Marda-Biarce won, Gray escapes from a mind-controlled Joshua...and into the hands of his brother, Abel.And then the resistance claims him.
Relationships: Abel/Gray
Series: Shadeless and Endless [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846705
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	1. Gray and Abel 1

**Author's Note:**

> This pretty much follows on from [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24739711) and is more in-depth dive into the AU.
> 
> This will mostly be extended cast and OC driven since...you know, most of the original cast is either dead or indisposed!
> 
> Abel Bennet is Joshua's younger brother from the extended canon and was introduced on Inuki Eiji's blog posts.

Running is a lot more difficult than Gray remembers, worse with the underbrush in his way and the gloom that precedes the dawn. He moves fast as he can, taking care only to avoid tripping on loose leaves. He clambers over massive roots and curses under his breath when a stray branch whips into his bare forearm and leaves a cut in his skin and blood on the wood. He keeps going anyway, splashing into a stream despite the cold. He travels along it for a while and lets the water take his blood and his scent.

It is when he scrambles out of the water again on the opposite bank, shivering, that the distant barking begins. Every instinct in Gray comes alive at the sound, and he flees onward once again.

***

"Heard the Hounds this morning," grunts Tux from the front of the carriage as Abel steps up to it. The tabby catfolk peers down at him with his one good eye, before glancing up at the manor entrance behind him. “Saw them heading back inside on m'way here. Abby, I know the Govgen's yer brother but—”

Abel cuts him off with a raised hand. "Let's refrain from speculating about our host until we're off his manor premises."

"...right-o," answers Tux with a scowl, but he says nothing further as Abel clambers into the carriage. There is no one at the manor door, but he feels the eyes on him anyway.

Once the door shuts and the mechanical horses start on their way, Abel reaches over to the window and loosens the curtain there, covering up the sight of that foul manor that cuts the horizon. He lays down on the carriage seat and sighs aloud, relaxing for what feels like the first time in a week and finally allowing himself to start processing everything.

Joshua. His brother.

Abel hadn't seen him in years. He'd gone off with his master and friend for some adventure or the other, then the war had happened and every B-daplayer he knew had disappeared, so Abel had feared the worst. But the war had ended in the conqueror's favor and when Joshua came back with a legion of soldiers, it was to establish himself as Governor General of the entire Banques region.

And that had been a decade ago—

The carriage jolts abruptly, and Abel barely has time to grab onto his seat as he's bumped about while they swerve with a screeching from the wheels.

" _B-damage's swiving B-daballs!_ " shouts Tux as the carriage settles. Abel scrambles to draw the curtain and lean out the window to survey the situation. They've come to a stop just outside Ruth Manor's gates, carriage at an angle that lets Abel instantly identify why.

"Oh hells," he whispers as he pulls back into the carriage so he can slam the door open and jump out. The young man laying in the middle of the road groans as Tux approaches him and Abel is instantly struck with foreboding.

Tux crouches and rolls the stranger over.

He stands and turns to Abel with wide eyes and says, " _Fuuuuuck._ "

"We have to help him," says Abel, even as his heart quickens at the sight of a battered and unconscious Gray Michael Vincent.

"Abby, that's who the Hounds were after!"

"I suspect that you're right." Abel breathes in, out, in, out—deep as he can. He strides close, leaning down to inspect Gray. Mere hours ago they had both been in the manor, sitting across each other at the grand table while Joshua sat at its head, and now Gray is on the ground, clothes torn, skin crossed by cuts, and cold to the touch.

And alive. His chest rises and falls with a shallow breath. Abel gestures at his feet. "Tux..."

"Yer going to get us killed," grumbles the catfolk, but he moves as ordered, bending to take Gray by the legs. "Won't be safe bringing him back to Eden."

"It's a risk we'll take," replies Abel, positioning himself to lift Gray by the shoulders. "Now, on three—"

***

When Gray comes to, he is propped up against a pillow in a bed and there must be a bandage around every inch of him. He doesn't move, not yet, examining his surroundings through half open eyes. It's nowhere he recognizes—the architecture is old Banqsian, with its mixture of wooden logs and exposed stone bricks in the walls. The furniture is much of the same, giving the room a golden glow as afternoon light filters in past yellow curtains. A fire crackles away in the large stone fireplace, and a human stranger fusses over something at the low tables near it.

Gray blinks away any remaining drowsiness. The stranger turns at this moment—a woman with bright orange hair and olive skin—and gasps when she notices his wakefulness.

"Where am I?" he demands, voice coming out hoarse, making him wince.

"Upstairs of Eden Lounge," she answers, and to his surprise, she swiftly comes over to hand him a clear glass of water. A glance behind her reveals she had been fussing over a tray of medical supplies. "We're still in Banker City, if that's what you're wondering."

The city. He'd made it to the city, after all, that distant smattering of tall buildings and ringing bells that had sat on the horizon when he'd looked out from the balconies of Ruth Manor, taunting him with the knowledge there was something beyond those gilded halls. He shudders at the thought of the place...how many years has it been? How many years had he been trapped there, kept as a plaything by one of Marda-B's puppets? Too long. Long enough that he'd changed and grown both in mind and body.

Hand shaking, he barely manages to take a gulp of water. Then he downs the rest of the glass, letting it soothe his throat. Satisfied, he places the glass on the bedside, looks up at the woman, and tells her, "Thank you."

She beams at him and nods. "The chief found you passed out on the road. Nearly ran you over, even," she says with a hearty laugh.

Gray grimaces. "Well...thanks for patching me up, but I need to go."

"Go? Where?" She stops, staring at him.

"Anywhere but here," he replies, moving to pull the heavy blanket on him off. He makes it to his feet and staggers, but he steadies himself against the wooden wall. "They won't stop looking for me..."

"Um," she says, shaking her head. "Don't think that's a good idea."

"Indeed, they'll find you wherever you go," comes a voice from the door.

Gray looks over and freezes.

It's Joshua.

"Gray—" starts Joshua, but Gray is scrambling back from him. He lands on the bed, then presses back up against the wool. His bandages loosen in his frantic movement and pain is shooting through him, but he can't—move—all he can see is Joshua's three-eyed face, looming over him as he pins Gray down and takes pieces of him over and over again—

"Hey, hey, easy there." The stranger with bright hair sits beside him, and he feels her hands on his back and shoulder. "Calm down, it's not the Governor-General."

He's still breathing heavily when his vision clears, and the one he'd mistaken for Joshua is standing as far back across the room as he can go. He blinks, racking his mind for a name, as he recognizes the much younger face, the bright blue eyes rather than green gazing at him with plain pity, that same light green hair styled longer around his pale face.

"You're...his brother," Gray chokes out, remembering now the man that had sat across him at dinner for the past week. But they had never spoken, and Joshua hadn't seemed interested in speaking to his own brother, but then, dinner had always been quiet anyway. All these long years of life in the manor had been spent in silence, broken only by the distant screams and Joshua's quiet commands...

"My name's Abel," comes the quiet reply. Abel makes tentative steps toward him, but does not come anywhere close to the bed. "I own this building and the lounge downstairs. You'll be safer staying here than trying to run. The Governor-General has eyes and ears everywhere in the region and you aren't likely to get far on your own."

Gray says nothing. He slumps against the wall, acutely aware of the way he aches all over and how unlikely it is he would even make it out of the city. On top of the condition he's in, he knows nothing of how the world has changed during his captivity...but to swap one cage for another is the last thing he desires.

"I'll stay." He meets Abel's eyes. They widen, they smile. Gray doesn't return any of it. "But not forever."

"Not forever," agrees Abel, "Only as long as you are recovering, and for as long as you want after that. Until then, consider this your home."

They hold their silence and their gazes a moment longer—until Abel nods and breaks away toward the door. "I'll leave Fei to do as she needs to fix those bandages of yours. Let's talk later, Gray."

It is only when the door shuts behind him that Gray releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding. The woman at his side—Fei—hops off the bed and makes for the medical supplies.

"Abel's a kind man," she says.

 _I hope you're right_ , Gray wants to say, but he doesn't. Instead, he settles back into the blankets and tries to make himself comfortable.

***

_The way Gray had looked at him with fear, the way Gray had accused him of being Joshua's brother, the way Gray had done everything he could to get away from him_ —Abel's thoughts are all a jumble as he enters the front room of the lounge, exacerbated by the noise of the band getting set up.

"Where's Quade?" he calls out to them, pressing two fingers into his temple to stave off what felt like the beginnings of a headache. The band thankfully pauses when they spot him.

"Out front," answers the guitarist. "She's getting started early. Might not wanna bother her right now, chief."

"You know how it is," replies Abel. "Sometimes we have little choice in these matters."

 _Out front_ is past the lounge's front doors, where he finds Quade sitting on the doorstep nursing a flask of questionable content. He lets the double doors slam close behind him, shutting out the noise of the band starting up again. Quade tosses her head, long golden hair spilling over her shoulders, as she looks up to raise the flask to him with an inquisitive look.

"I'll save the drinking for later," he tells her. "I need a favor."

She gazes at him with one eyebrow lifted. "Personal or professional?"

"Both." Abel's throat is dry, but not for lack of drink. He swallows and tilts his head, gesturing upward with his eyes. "Our guest is awake and needs a new identity while he's staying with us, at least until Armada's next visit. Pretend he's your brother till then?"

Quade laughs and takes a long sip this time. She holds out an expectant hand to him, so Abel helps her up. She leans against the doorframe and pats his shoulder.

"Because we're both blonde?" she says with a grin.

"It's the safest route," he answers, expression entirely solemn. "Can't have the Governor-General's agents looking too closely."

"Okay, a favor it is. You bet I'll call this one in," she answers with a smirk. Down goes the rest of her drink as she tilts her head back to get it all. She sighs contentedly, then holsters the flask on her belt. "I'll see if Armada doesn't take my call tonight. You said blondie's awake? I better go meet my new brother then."

"Quade," Abel says as she rests her hand on the doorknob on her side of the double doors. "Fei's with him. Please don't antagonize either of them."

"That'll cost you another favor," she says with a grin, then she slips inside, leaving him alone on the steps of his own establishment.

Abel stands there for a moment, listening to the city bustle its way through the day. He grimaces and reaches into his inner pocket for his own flask, small enough to be hidden comfortably but large enough to warm him in a single sip and keep him moving for the rest of the day.

A chill wind sweeps down the cobblestone street, and Abel watches as leaves follow and dance in the air above the darkening silhouette of Banker City against the orange sky. He turns away to watch instead the deepening shadows cast by the gaggle of trees that sit at the end of the road. Further past the shield of trees, Ruth Manor rests on its throne of a hill, cold as the stone that built it to the thriving city at its feet. To its east, the abandoned B-daplayer Academy stands where it had died, perhaps wondering where the children that had once run through its halls had gone.

Abel unscrews his flask's cap and takes a swig of his favored whisky. A relic of a hero has escaped right into his hands, and he's certain the resistance won't let him sit back and let things play out on their own anymore.

Barking starts, somewhere in the distance. The Hounds are on the move again.

It's going to be another long year.


	2. Gray and Abel 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slow burn? i don't know her. we ship fast like we're captain finn
> 
> the song quade sings is [save me - the real tuesday weld](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gTias7T78ws)

" _For a girl of my age, I haven't got much to show for my sins_."

Quade's voice drifts over the busy lounge. She, and the rest of the band, are the only constants in the shifting crowd of patrons. Gray hesitates at the staff entrance, if only because he has not seen so many people in one place in so long.

But the busy low murmur and the loud music...somehow, they comfort him more than the quiet warmth of his bedroom upstairs. He has been here for a week now, and he hasn't come down here in all that time. Fei tends to him diligently, but answers none of his questions, and Abel rarely visited after the disaster of their first meeting.

Quade came by often; she seems to like seeing him squirm. It's fortunate she's nothing like Liena. He wouldn't have agreed to their little charade if she had been.

Liena...

Gray grimaces and pushes forward into the lounge.

_"But you...can save me, any time. But you..."_

He picks his way past tables and chairs occupied by a variety of strangers, each one carrying a tale on their shoulders he isn't privy to. Groups at tables talk in low voices and ignore him. He waves away the thick smoke dancing around him, its haze making the dim lighting feel even darker, and makes his way to the bar, where a one-eyed catfolk person is mixing drinks.

"Argent! Yer looking better than the last time I saw ya," says the catfolk, setting down the bottles in his hands. He winks at Gray, a gesture that Gray finds silly considering the eyepatch over his eye.

"...have we met?" he asks.

"I was driving the carriage when we...eh, _met_." The catfolk's answer brings with a wide smile, one that seems to stretch his face out considerably more than it should be possible to. "Name's Tux. Here, I'll fix ya up a drink. On the house."

"Just milk is fine." Gray leans on the bar counter, turning to watch the rest of the lounge again. He tries not to grimace too openly. He doesn't belong here, doesn't know what life is like in this day and age, doesn't understand the appeal of the lounge's atmosphere.

_"We're all as lost as each other. Who's a killer? Who's a lover? I..."_

Tux snorts. "Just _milk_ , says the man." The catfolk reaches down under the counter and pulls out a little bottle of something pink. "Not at my bar...well, I'll go easy on ya."

"...okay then?" Gray isn't sure what to say, falling quiet as he goes back to watching the lounge, this time picking out the distinct groups of people at each table. Couples occupying the more private tables to the sides of the room, larger groups in the middle. It's mostly older folks, he notes, but for a small group of young men who had to be much younger than him chatting a little louder than the rest of the room. They sit in the middle of the room, exchanging drinks and gesturing and laughing in Quade's direction. Gray frowns as he picks out the swagger they carry themselves with.

"Here ya go. S'one of Abby's—Abel's favorites." Tux slides a glass of something light red across the counter, but Gray isn't paying attention.

"Tux, what can you tell me about them?" He nods in the direction of the group he's been observing.

"Those guys?" Tux follows his gaze, then winces. "B-daplayers. Handpicked by the Govgen himself, which means they get to trample o'er anyone who displeases him and them. They work with the Hounds too and whatnot, so stay away from them, ya hear?"

"I hear you," answers Gray quietly. He picks up the glass Tux had made for him, the swirling liquid catching some of the dim lighting and sparkling. Since waking up here, outside the manor, he's had nothing but unanswered questions. "Where's Abel?"

"In his office." Tux gestures toward the exit of the lounge, the double doors across the room. "The little room up front. He likes to work from there, keep an eye on the floor and all."

"Thanks."

Gray gives Tux a parting nod and enters the crowd, trying to glide across the room the way he's watched its patrons move with a glassful of liquor in hand. He avoids the tables in the middle, noting as he passes by that the 'B-daplayers' have taken to playing some kind of party game in their seats. When he comes up to the entry hall, he finds Fei working the till by the doors.

She glances up, blinks, and waves him over with a wad of B-dabucks.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asks, going straight back to her work as soon as he's in earshot.

"Looking for Abel's office," he replies.

This earns him a sharp glance up, then a glance at the glass in his hand. "Okay, he's right through there."

She directs him to a door across from her in the little entry hall, set into the wall and disguised as an ornate panel. Gray hesitates at the door. He's come to confront Abel and get some answers, but life working the lounge doesn't seem too bad...

No, he can't stay here forever. Joshua will come for him.

He pushes through the door and finds a cluttered office. Books line shelves set into the entire wall across him, and even more are scattered all about the room. Documents cover nearly every surface, save perhaps for the couch pushed up against one wall covered in blankets instead. The whole room is lit only by the warm glow of a desk lamp.

Abel himself is at the desk more paper than wood, hunched over something he's reading.

"Hey," starts Gray.

Abel leaps to his feet, pushing his chair back with a loud scraping noise, eyes wide and jaw set. Then his gaze settles on Gray, and he visibly relaxes, shoulders sagging as he drops back into his chair.

"Oh, Argent," he says. He must have been practicing using that false name in his own time, considering they haven't seen each other that much. "You didn't knock and...sorry, it's been a rough week."

"I didn't realize," answers Gray, striding closer to the desk. The clutter, as with the bustle of the lounge, makes for a welcome change from the perpetually pristine rooms of the manor. He sets the glass down on the desk, barely managing to avoid putting the dewed glass on anything that looked important. "Tux made me this but since it's your favorite..."

Abel's gaze is drawn to the glass. His lips thin into a line, but he doesn't reach for it. "A little early for me to start drinking," he says, looking sharply back up at Gray, meeting his eyes with an even expression. "Bringing me that can't be the only reason you're here. Sit. Let's talk."

Gray sits down and all his questions, built up over the past week, turn into an untidy mess.

So he asks the only one that comes to mind, "Why haven't you turned me in to...the Governor-General?"

"Why would I do that?" Abel blinks at him in surprise.

"Well, you're..."

"His brother?" Abel shakes his head and leans back in his chair, resting his cheek on his hand. "That label is meaningless in this day and age, and I make it a point to not associate with him. My visit to the manor last week was even the first time he'd allowed me to call on him, and the result of that is simply confirmation that the Governor-General isn't my brother anymore, not with that eye on him. Whoever Joshua would have become...that man's long dead."

Gray closes his eyes.

It's hard to remember the times before, save the threads of memory that he'd clung onto through the years. Those little things he has used to remind himself who he is, who his friends are, what he fights for. But for every piece he's kept, more were lost. He remembers his friends for the warmth and comfort they'd brought him, but not their voices, and so little of their faces when they had all been mere children. They had been young, maybe too young, for the burden the world had placed on them. And they had failed.

And Joshua is a victim of their failure. Gray remembers that much—the soft, gentle eyes he'd once had that pleaded desperately with him to save his master.

All of that, gone. All that's left is a monster in Joshua's skin.

Gray shudders. Abel's face swims back into view, looking most concerned. Gray takes a moment to focus on his features again, staring into those blue eyes intently. It's not Joshua who sits before him.

"You're right," says Gray, finally breaking the silence. "Didn't mean to imply you're like him..."

"No, you're well within your right," says Abel. He looks thoughtful, but absentmindedly reaches over to take the glass between them. "Our introduction at the manor was not...the best of situations to be in."

Gray wishes he'd taken a sip of the drink that Abel has now started on, or had insisted on Tux giving him a glass of milk anyway, considering the sudden lump in his throat. "Let's not talk about that place."

Abel blinks, then nods. "Sorry," he says, frowning. "You must have other questions. Let's work on those."

"Well, out in the lounge," starts Gray, "There's a group of kids Tux said were B-daplayers causing trouble. Hasn't anyone tried to challenge them? Chase them out of town?"

"Ah." Abel sighs, then takes a large mouthful out of the glass, leaving half of the drink behind. He sets it down and leans back. "I should've guessed this would come up. Um...no one but the select few chosen by the Governor-General are allowed a B-daman anymore. I don't know what it's like in other regions, but in the Banques...it's an order straight from New Meowlantis."

"So no one else has a B-daman?" Gray demands. There—that familiar surging and roiling of anger, nestling in his gut and chest. He thinks of Chrome Zephyr and Chrome Raven, of his oldest friend that had been with him through thick and thin, that B-daman gifted to him by Liena that would prove a reliable companion no matter what, of its broken piece lost to time...and now...no one was allowed a friend like that...?

"Correct," answers Abel with a wince. "Not really anyone that knows how to play either...what with, erm, all the old B-daplayers turned to statues."

Gray isn't even thinking when he immediately says, "Then I'll just get a B-daman and drive them out myself."

"I can't let you do that."

"What?"

Abel breathes in deep and grimaces as he makes eye contact again.

"I wanted to wait a little longer before telling you about this but...we aren't just sitting by and not doing anything. Right now those B-daplayers are making life here hard, but we've got a plan, all right?" Abel rises from his seat, downing the rest of his drink as he stands. He sets the empty glass back down with a loud thud. "I'm telling you this because I've been warned about the type of B-daplayer you used to be as a kid, and I don't want you running off on your own and getting caught."

"I'm not that kid anymore..." Gray starts, only to pause. "Wait, you're...you're fighting in secret, aren't you? Against...against the Governor-General?"

"Correct again," says Abel, smiling. It's far more cheerful than Gray thinks it has any right to be. It's also somehow a comforting look that suits him and the sight quickly calms Gray. Abel continues as he starts to round his desk. "But it's a little bigger than that. It's not just the Governor-General. We want to bring back a world where we aren't living in fear of the Shadeless Throne _and_ anyone can pick up a B-daman and call themselves a B-daplayer again."

Gray doesn't hesitate. "I want in."

"I was also warned you might say that." Abel chuckles and claps Gray on the shoulder. He makes for the windows, opening the blinds and letting moonlight in through the thin slats. "And frankly, I have no intention of stopping you from joining the resistance."

"That's—That's actually kind of surprising."

Gray doesn't even want to take the time to think about it, which he supposes would be a more reasonable response to being told about the rebellion. But he's spent years dreaming of precisely this, of joining with people who won't let the world continue being a place where he—where anyone—is a mere plaything. And Abel's words strike and dig deep into him. _No more living in fear. Anyone can be a B-daplayer again._

He suspects that if he instead asks Abel to help him go someplace where he can live out the rest of his now free life in peace and obscurity and never hear from the resistance ever again, Abel won't stop him either.

But the boy he once was, the man he is now, could never do something like that.

"The head of the resistance knew you quite well, it seems," says Abel. "He was...happy when we called and told him you still lived. That you'd escaped on your own."

Gray pauses in his musing to consider this. Who still lived? Everyone he knew had been in Neon City. Everyone he knew should be gone. "Who?"

Abel grins. "Legendary B-damaster Armada."

It takes Gray a long moment to recover his voice. "He's dead."

"Thankfully not," answers Abel, turning to give him a curious look. "I've met the crazy old cat, but he's very much alive."

Gray sits back. Dare he hope? Dare he believe this at Abel's word? _Armada_ is alive and well and heading the resistance? Then is it possible that others survived too? Even Liena...?

"I need to meet him."

"He'll be here tomorrow night."

At Gray's surprised look, Abel smiles that smile again. "He couldn't wait till one of his regular visits to see you," he says. "He's traveling here fast as he can with two of his inner circle."

"This is kind of a lot to take in," Gray admits, still trying to process that _Armada_ is alive. Second by second, hope is taking root in him. Little by little, he starts to believe that maybe it really is a miracle after all.

"I suppose it would be!" Abel seems to be in a cheerier mood now, more than usual, as he laughs again. "Come, let's have that drink now..." His gaze travels back to his desk where the empty glass sits, and he pauses. "Oh, erm, seems my hands moved on their own again."

Grays just gives him a wry smile.

"Let's get you another one," he says, "Tux owes me some milk, anyway."

***

Abel is quite sure that he's drunk.

It's been a while since he's had reason to drink in a celebratory manner, but Gray is sitting on the bar stool beside him and all the patrons have gone home and Tux is freely handing them both drinks that are better than usual and giving him a knowing wink and Abel looks at Gray and thinks he's so, so, very, kind of pretty.

Some barely conscious part of Abel recoils. Gray's recovering from an unwilling relationship with Abel's own brother, and while he seems to have adjusted to life in the lounge quite well over the past week, Abel's well aware it can't have been that easy for him. Indeed—in his hazy mind, Abel gets stuck on wondering if Gray still looks at him and sees nothing but Joshua.

"Okay," Abel somehow manages to say when another glass of alcoholic strawberry comes his way, "Enough...Enough drinks."

"Aw, chief," says Tux, with that big stupid grin of his, "You're just getting started."

" _Just_ getting started?" hisses Gray, sounding entirely as if he doesn't care to get started himself.

"I'll take that." Quade appears out of nowhere, too quickly for Abel to really see where she came from right now. She grabs the glass in front of him and gulps it down in big chunks, and slams the glass back down on the counter when she's done. "Hit me with another one, Tux. Kieran got handsy again."

Abel recognizes the name. It's the leader of the gang of B-daplayers. He frowns, trying to look serious as he says, "Did Fei kick him out?"

Quade shakes her hand. "C'mon Abby, you know we can't do that."

"Should've..." Abel is losing focus. "Should've smashed his...his B-daballs...eheh..."

He can't help but giggle to himself. Quade makes a face at him but Tux bursts out laughing and Gray—Gray is holding back a smile. It's slight, and Abel thinks he'd like to see more of it. He'd like to see more of Gray, really.

Oh. He must really be drunk.

It's celebratory, he tells himself. Gray in his hands (but sadly, not _in_ his hands at the moment—) gives Eden Lounge some power within the resistance and maybe, just maybe, they'll stop looking at Abel and seeing the monster looming over him just because they're related by blood. Maybe when they write the history books, he won't be _Joshua's brother_ but a decorated name in his own right. The one who saved a hero.

Tux slides another glass his way. Abel laughs and slides it in Quade's direction and hops off his seat. It takes him a moment to find his balance, even if the lounge room itself is off-balance and kind of starting to spin upside down—

Gray catches him by the wrist, then hefts his arm over his shoulder, and Abel leans onto him without thinking.

"Wow," says Tux from somewhere behind them, "Haven't seen the chief _this_ pathetic in a while."

"C'mon, I'll get you to your room. Where's it at?" says Gray, ignoring the catfolk and gazing down at Abel with a brow knit together.

"Office," he mumbles out, distracted by how pleasant the dim light of the after hours lounge looks on Gray.

Somehow, Gray navigates him through the lounge, past tables with chairs set on them for the night, and they make it to his office without incident. It feels like forever ago that they were just talking in here, even if it had to just be hours ago...

"Keep the...the lights off."

Moonlight filters in through the open blinds, past the translucent glass windows, and leaving long lines across the room. Abel stumbles over a book or two, away from Gray still at the door, and makes his path toward the couch. He flops down on it, groaning.

"Wait," says Gray. He picks his way over books and papers to Abel, staring at him sitting on the couch. "You sleep here?"

"Yeah," says Abel. He shrugs off his blazer and lets it fall somewhere into the pile of blankets. "Gave you my bedroom."

"That's—I didn't realize," says Gray. He crouches so he's eye level with Abel, and his brow is still knit together and Abel thinks it's because he's really concerned about him. "C'mon, let's get you over to that room then."

"No, we can stay here." Abel reaches out and his hand finds Gray's shoulder, and Gray's eyes are wide now and Abel gazes into them. It's hard to make out the green in so dim a light but his eyes have long adjusted and he can see, at least, how they shimmer as they gaze back at him.

Abel doesn't think. Doesn't hesitate. He leans in and presses his lips to Gray's.

Gray makes a surprised noise, but doesn't pull away. He's actually—returning the kiss, and Abel feels a fluttering in his stomach that quickly drops someplace else. Abel grasps at him, fingers curling on Gray's borrowed shirt, and he feels Gray place a hand on his shoulder—

They break apart abruptly.

"I–I can't do this. Abel, you..." says Gray and Abel is so confused why they aren't kissing anymore and he's so sure that Gray's about to say ' _you look like Joshua'_ but then Gray shakes his head and stands. "You're drunk."

"I, but—what about when I'm not drunk?" asks Abel, and he can't help but gaze back at Gray with as much a pleading look as he can muster. He's already well aware he's drunk, so there's no real use in trying to deny that, but maybe he can at least make thing easier for when he's not.

Gray doesn't reply. He reaches down instead past Abel, and very kindly draws up a blanket to wrap around him and gently lower him so he's laying back. He steps back, and back, and Abel watches him go and he's just not sure how he wants to feel right now.

"Tell you what," says Gray finally, when he's at the door. "I'll think about it."

The door shuts behind him lightly, leaving Abel curled in his blankets. All he can think, as he drifts off to sleep, is that Gray isn't just very pretty, but also really cool.


	3. Gray and Abel 3

Gray's standing in Joshua's bedroom in the manor.

The doorknob starts to turn and his breath catches. He scrambles away from the dresser, and he can't remember why he was there in the first place, just that he shouldn't have been. He makes it to the bed as the door opens, sitting on its edge and waiting, patiently.

Joshua enters, third eye swiveling and examining the room for him. He gazes at Gray evenly.

"No escape attempt today, Gray?"

Gray doesn't say anything. He's still aching from yesterday's punishment.

"Have you finally learned, then?" asks Joshua. He strides close and takes off one glove, reaching down to touch Gray's cheek. His skin is warm, even if Gray has always expected a dead man's hands to be cold.

"Look at me," orders Joshua.

Gray obeys, turning his gaze upward. They meet Joshua's eyes.

They're blue.

Abel smiles and kisses him, and Gray doesn't even entertain not kissing him back.

***

Gray wakes with a jolt and instantly winces at how warm he feels. His blanket is thick with sweat as he peels it off and sits up.

The door opens, and Fei rushes in. She's dressed impeccably as always, but her mannerisms are jerky and she's clearly in a hurry.

"Thank the B-damage, you're already up," she says, striding to the wardrobe, throwing it open and grabbing some random shirt from within. She tosses it over to Gray. "Get that on. Armada's arriving early."

That has Gray alert and focused, as he leaps out of bed and dresses quickly. He's buttoning up his shirt when he glances at the clock on the fireplace mantle. It's not even noon yet.

"A lot earlier?"

"They ran into trouble," replies Fei. She moves back to the door and gestures at him to follow. "Sent one of their party ahead to let us know, but she keeps refusing to talk to anyone till she's seen you."

Gray lets Fei steer him downstairs, all the while trying to imagine who Armada could have brought with him. Is it too much to hope that it's Liena? Even Bull?

Fei hangs back when he arrives in the lounge, leaving him to enter alone. Sunlight struggles to puncture the shuttered windows, and he pauses to let his eyes adjust to the dim light of a single lamp turned on. There's a catfolk woman sitting across from Abel. Her fur is a dark, bluish gray, and she looks up to him with bright golden eyes as soon as he enters.

"You must be Gray," she says, rising from her chair.

Abel turns in his seat, and Gray's amused to see that he's rubbing his temple and otherwise not looking very awake. No doubt, had the catfolk not arrived, he would not be up yet at this time, considering last night.

Last night, when they...Gray mentally shakes the thought away.

"Might be," he replies. "Don't think we've met before."

"Badra," she supplies with a kind smile. "I'm one of...Armada's advisors. I've been instructed to verify your identity before he arrives."

" _Verify his identity?_ " spits Abel, clearly indignant. "I picked him up off the road outside the Governor-General's manor myself!"

"I understand your irritation, Mr. Bennet," says Badra, ears angling toward him, "But those are my orders. We need to make sure it's really him before we move on with our plans."

"And those plans are?" grumbles Abel.

"None of your concern for now." Badra sets her gaze on Gray the entire time, clearly expecting him to say something.

He very suddenly gets the distinct feeling that there's a lot more to this than what Abel's told him, and that he's as much a pawn here as he has ever been. He's come to like the folks of the lounge, and Abel in particular, but he wants to meet Armada again more than anything right now. Gray steps up to Badra and Abel.

"I'll do whatever you need me to do to prove I'm me," he tells Badra, and there's something satisfying about being at eye level with someone when he's trying to make a point.

"You only need to answer my questions," she says, "When you were in the Shadow Alliance, you were known by another name, yes?"

Gray can't imagine how _that_ proves his identity, but he replies anyway. "Hurricane Gray."

She nods. "And the one who named you that?"

The memory strikes him as soon as she asks. It's one he didn't realize he still knows and he's taken back to that dimly lit training room, where he'd been showing off his rapidfire skills for the Yongfa brothers. They weren't friends yet, back then, but Wen had been cheering him on despite himself. Li had been much more reserved, of course, and Enjyu had been leaning against a wall and pretending not to watch.

Thinking of them makes him think of Liena and that suddenly makes him think of Yamato, and that's a line of thinking he can't ever seem to follow to the end.

"It was Wen," he chokes out.

Badra studies his expression, though he isn't even sure what face he's making, before nodding.

Abel sighs, exasperated when he says, "That's it then?"

"Yes," answers Badra. She turns away, towards the exit. "If you'll just give me a moment."

Gray watches her stride to the door, where she stops with her hand on the handle. He sees her eyes close and her fur stand on end and Gray suddenly feels a familiar tingle against the back of his neck.

 _It's him._ Badra's voice whispers in his ear, and Gray shudders. He suddenly can't focus on anything, and all he can see is a bright red sky around him.

 _Praise the B-damage,_ replies a deeper voice, and Gray somehow knows he's not supposed to be privy to this.

Badra opens the door, and Gray blinks and he's back in the mostly empty lounge.

Two catfolk in long traveling cloaks enter the room. The first is taller and buffer than any catfolk he's ever met, with light purple fur and a swath of gold hair between his ears. The second is half the first one's height, fur a rich tyrian with lavender hair held back into a high ponytail.

Neither catfolk is Armada.

"Armada," greets Abel. "You were outside the entire time?"

"We just needed to make sure, eh," answers the first catfolk.

But Gray isn't paying attention to their conversation. He recognizes the second catfolk. There's a lot about him that's different, but the way he carries himself with a knowing look in his eyes, and that tingle of magic that lingers around him...it's all the same. Somehow, the years haven't taken this knowledge from him.

" _Ababa_ ," he hisses, and the pleasantries the others were exchanging come to a halt.

"It's been quite a long while," says Ababa, turning away from Abel to bow his head in greeting. "Not since that fateful Winners Tournament, no?"

"You were the leader of the Shadow Alliance," says Gray, glaring at him. "So what are you doing _here?_ And who's _that?_ That's not—"

"Answers in due time," says Ababa a little too quickly.

"I'm a little tired," says the tall catfolk who isn't Armada, "But I really wanted to come see you first. Let's talk in private, eh?"

"No," says Gray, and he feels the room grow tense.

Ababa is giving him that familiar look of disapproval. Badra is mirroring his expression and turning it into a full glare. The tall catfolk is giving him a baffled look. Gray glances at Abel, and finds him watching with a mildly interested look. He wonders—what had they expected? That he would just agree to this without pause?

"Gray," starts Ababa.

Gray doesn't care why they're so worked up. He turns to Abel and gestures at the three catfolk. "That's not Armada."

"Wait, what?" Abel perks up at his words. "What do you mean?"

"Do not do this," says Ababa, eyes narrowing. "We can't trust him."

"Excuse me?" Abel looks to him sharply. "Because I'm Joshua's brother?"

A sneer curls its way onto Ababa's face. "Precisely."

" _You come into my bar—_ " Abel starts toward Ababa, but Gray catches him by the arm. "Wh—"

"He's trying to distract you from the real problem," says Gray, glaring at the three catfolk. The longer this goes on, the more it's clear something weird's going on here. "Ababa's always been manipulating people, but it's best not to play into his hands."

"Okay," says Abel, gaze still firmly on Ababa. "What did you mean, that's not Armada?"

Gray looks over to the tall catfolk. He's gazing back at Gray with an amused smirk now, as if he'd maybe anticipated this. Gray remembers the real Armada easily, that kindly face that brought with it hard lessons and decades of experience. He remembers warmth and a gentle softness that went hand in hand with that honesty, and, if he had to admit, for the short while they'd known each other, Armada had been very much like a father to him.

This catfolk looks nothing like Armada. He's all harsh edges.

"I'll explain it, eh," he says.

"But—" starts Ababa, but the catfolk shakes his head.

"No, it'll be nice to tell someone," he says. "And it might as well be someone who already knows. My real name's Badmada."

"Why are you pretending to be Armada?" demands Gray. Abel gasps in shock and goes slack.

"It was my idea," says Ababa with a grimace. He sighs and draws up one of the chairs nearby, seating himself. "Eight years ago, now. The resistance was barely anything then, just a very old man going around collecting those willing to fight. Badmada and I were among those he recruited, and I saw an opportunity to have the resistance rally behind the name of a legendary B-damaster."

"I was Armada's rival," supplies Badmada. He steps close to Ababa, stooping a little to place a hand on the other's shoulder. "We were much, much younger then, both of us training to be B-damasters. I lost, eh."

"And that makes it okay for you to impersonate him?" snaps Gray.

"Gray," says Ababa, a curious mix of pleading in his eyes but chastising in his tone. "We've only done what we needed to do, and part of that was honoring Armada's name and legacy by bringing people together in his name. We've been fighting, Gray, more than you'll ever know. You were in that gilded cage for ten years, after all. So you're free to judge me and Badmada, but know that the B-daworld as you knew it—it's dead."

Gray doesn't know what to say to that.

"I need a drink," says Abel quietly. He pulls away from Gray. shaking his arm out of a grip that Gray hasn't realized he's still been holding, and makes his way over to the bar. Badra slips behind Badmada and strides over to him.

That leaves Gray to stare down the two men and to work through what he's just been told. _Gilded cage_ , Ababa said. Gray draws in a breath, tries to stay calm. He's been locked away all this time. It's...it's not in his right to pass judgement on them, and, if he's to believe Ababa, they've certainly done more than he has.

"Okay," he says. He strides closer and takes Abel's previous seat. He has questions for Ababa, but those can wait. There's something more important at hand. "You're right, the B-daworld I knew is gone, but I've already made up my mind. I'm going to help bring it back and if that means I pretend to be okay with this...then I'll work with you."

Ababa smiles, but Gray doesn't smile back, narrowing his eyes at the catfolk instead. Before he can say anything, Gray adds, "But don't expect me to trust you."

"You know," says Badmada with a chuckle, "That's fair."

Ababa's smile falters, just a little, but it's a small victory for Gray. The tiny catfolk inclines his head in a half nod, and gestures to Badmada to take the seat beside him. "Very well. Now, we have much to discuss."

Gray frowns. It's becoming clear that even with Badmada playing the part of Armada, the real leader here is Ababa. The question remains—what happened to him during the war?

But those are questions that can wait, if they'll be working together. Gray nods at the two of them.

"Where do we start?"

***

Abel knocks back another glass and Badra raises her brow at him.

So he's still a little hungover and this is decidedly not the best course of action to handle that, but! Armada isn't Armada! And Ababa—Gray said something about him being in the Shadow Alliance. It's hard to believe. He's looked up to Armada this whole time, even if they've fought about his—and the others' of the Lounge's—place in the resistance. Ababa has been nothing but kind to him, teaching him to be a shrewd businessmen and...okay, maybe he can see that part. Abel decides he'll make sense of this the way he knows best: while drunk.

"Did you know?" he says, watching from behind the counter as Gray and Armada—Badmada—and Ababa converse animatedly.

"Of course I did," says Badra. She's seated at the counter, nursing a glass of milk. It's the good kind of milk that Tux keeps hidden in a cooler that he thinks Abel doesn't know about, and it only seemed right to pour some for the lady. She's looking on with a carefully calculated look that wavers between interest and disinterest. "I was Armada's closest...well, let's call it his _confidante_."

"You knew Armada before all this..." Abel pours himself another glass. He doesn't know how to feel being the only one in the room who didn't know the real Armada. He grimaces. He doesn't know how to feel either about the fake Armada. "And you're okay with this?"

Her gaze meets his, even and cool as ever, but he's looked into eyes like hers before. Everyone had lost someone in the war, and for a long, long time, everyone's souls bore their grief openly. Then time wore on and, little by little, the Governor-General changed the immediate world around them and things started to seem less and less bad. Little by little, time chipped away at people's grief and, nowadays, it starts to shy away from open windows and locks itself in people's hearts instead.

Abel suspects that Badra's eyes are the same as the day she learned of Armada's death.

"Of course not," she says quietly. "But it's what needs to be done."

She takes her glass and turns away in her seat, facing the entry hall of the lounge. He looks down at the swirling contents of his glass.

Abel was five when Joshua, not even two years older than him, packed up all his books and walked out the door of their family home. The family business was struggling and he was leaving to work for a much wealthier family. Their parents had smiled and waved Joshua off as if he were going to school and not to a life of waiting on the one who would be his downfall. They use the money Joshua sends back to put Abel in the best school in town. _Joshua knew what he needed to do_ , their father had said.

Abel was eight when he met Cain McDonnell Ruth for the first time. Joshua had invited him to come visit Ruth Manor. Abel had decided immediately he didn't like the boy, but he'd agreed to a B-dabattle out in the courtyard anyway. It was the first and only time he ever played, and the battle had been cut short by a woman arriving in a car. The bottles in her hands had clinked as she cursed her wobbly way toward the mansion steps. Joshua had grabbed Cain and Abel and pushed them into the garden, out of her view, earning her ire and prompting her to turn her cursing on him. _My priority was protecting you both from Ms. McDonnell, so I did what I felt was necessary_ , he'd later said. Then, with a thoughtful look, he had added, _Master Cain especially needed it._

Abel was twelve when the war ended. He'd holed up with his parents as weeks of tense fear had gone by, and it had only continued that way as uncertainty gripped the towns of the Banques. What would happen now that the Neo Shadow Alliance had won? What would they want now that all the B-daplayers were dead? Abel was thirteen when news finally came. That there was a Governor-General in Banker City laying claim to all the region. That he'd taken Ruth Manor as his home. That he was a green-haired, three-eyed man once called Joshua. Abel had watched his parents exchange looks and they'd quickly barricaded their estate and turned it into a fortress. Abel was fourteen when the angry ones came and tested the fortress's defenses. People didn't like what the Governor-General was changing about their world. Some of it had been for the better, some of it had not. Abel had never known how to feel about any of it, but either way, Joshua had an army that could stop anything they tried. His former family had only themselves and a home that quickly fell to enraged masses. His mother threw him out the back gate while his father went to reason with them. _Do whatever it takes, whatever you need to do, to survive,_ she had whispered as the fires started behind her. She locked the gate so he couldn't come back for her. _Now, Abel...run!_

 _What needs to be done_. It seems that's all anyone can do, Abel muses. He takes smaller sips out of his glass this time and lets his gaze travel the room. For as long as Eden Lounge has existed, the resistance has courted him. A base of operations right on the doorstep of the Governor-General appeals more than anything to them.

He's always wanted too much from them to just agree.

He lingers on Gray, as he's been wont to do this past week. Based on the way he and Ababa have been going back and forth, while Badmada sits quietly by and interjects here and there...Gray seems to have already made a decision. Free for a week, and already he's doing more than Abel has.

Abel suddenly doesn't feel like finishing his drink. He pushes his glass aside and starts to make his way around the counter. Maybe it's time for him to give back to the resistance after all.

"Wait," says Badra suddenly, rising from her seat. Her ears are high and alert, as is her tail.

"What?" Abel blinks.

Badra moves too quickly for him to react. She grabs him around the waist and _leaps_ over to the others, clearing several tables and chairs, interrupting their conversation. "Ababa, from the entrance!" she shouts.

Ababa's on his feet immediately. He turns and throws a hand out and a barrier of magic flies up just as the shots ring out, the windows of the lounge's entry hall shatter, and hundreds of B-daballs come flying in.

They hit the barrier with a cacophonous thundering. Abel steadies himself where Badra set him down. Gray and Badmada are out of their seats already. Badmada is reaching under his cloak, and Gray—Gray's fingers are twitching as his hand moves to his thigh. B-daballs shatter everything in the lounge, tearing wood where they hit, driving holes into the walls and floor and ceiling and Abel can only watch, huddled behind the magic shield, as the home he's built up is destroyed.

"How dare they," he says, voice coming out hoarse, when the firing stops. There's a lump in his throat and his eyes are stinging already.

Ababa turns to him. "Quickly, before they start again—is there another way out?"

Abel swallows. "Trapdoor in the backroom leads to the escape tunnels."

"Badra, like we planned," says Ababa.

She doesn't say anything, only turning to Abel and Gray and ushering them to the door in the back. Abel doesn't protest, unlike Gray, moving quick as he can. His heart is pounding in his chest as he throws the door open.

Fei is waiting for them, eyes wide and panicked. "I can't find Quade—"

The firing starts up again.

Badra pushes them both through the door, then pulls Badmada through. The door slams shut behind him, B-daballs thudding against it. Cracking fills the air as it splinters under the barrage.

"Let's go," says Badmada.


	4. Gray and Abel 4

Every inch of Gray wants to turn around and fight, wants to run back to the lounge. Match each shot coming his way with a B-daball of his own. Go out there and demand a direct hit battle. Trust in his skills and his B-daman and stop this madness.

But he doesn't have a B-daman, hasn't had one for a decade. He's powerless right now.

"This leads to the school outside town," says Abel as he pulls open their escape route with some effort. He huffs and turns to them, face pale. "The Governor-General likes to have a patrol up there every so often, so stay quiet, you hear?"

"Allow me to scout ahead," says Badra, striding to Abel's side. She waves Badmada over, then meets Gray's eyes. "Would you take up the rear, Mr. Gray?"

"Just Gray is fine," he replies with a nod. There's no time to question her why, but he asks instead, "What about Ababa?"

"He'll catch up," says Badmada quietly. He starts down the ladder, moving at an even pace.

Something about all this is still bothering Gray. Perhaps Ababa's presence has shaken him more than anything, because it had never occurred to him that Ababa's eye had meant he was one of Marda-B's victims too...but even then, Gray isn't sure he can forgive everything Ababa did all those years ago. He hopes Badmada's right, if only so he can properly question Ababa.

"Still clear over here," says Fei from the door, where she's peeking out to make sure they're still safe.

"N-No sign of Quade?" asks Abel, looking more and more shaken each time Gray looks over to him. Badmada has disappeared down the trapdoor, and Badra's started climbing down after him. It's not quite the hurried escape this was mere moments ago.

"She must have slipped out," answers Fei. She grimaces. "This doesn't make sense. Why are they attacking _now_?"

Abel looks ready to answer, but he's cut off by the sound of howling in the distance.

The room falls silent. Badra freezes on the ladder, and Abel and Fei exchange looks.

Gray's breathe quickens, his heart pounds away in his ears, but the howling—the howling consumes all noise and claim his ears and mind. He needs to run. Away from it, away from the Hounds, away from—

He jolts, and blinks, and looks down to find Abel has come over to place a hand on his arm. Blue eyes gaze back at him in concern.

"T-Thanks. I'm...I'll be fine," he manages, breathing in deeply.

The howling continues.

"It's too close. Tux might not be able to handle them this time." Fei hurries to the trapdoor. "Abel, go _now_ —"

The words are scarce past her lips when the wall behind her explodes.

***

Abel coughs as the dust settles and his vision clears. His ears are ringing, but he seems to be completely all right otherwise.

The reason why becomes clear as soon as he blinks and tries to move. Gray is pinning him to the floor, looking as disoriented as Abel feels.

"A...Abel?" Gray's voice comes into focus after a long moment. "Are you okay?"

"I–I believe I am," says Abel, trying to simply breathe through the fear swiftly overtaking him. Gray is warm at least, pressing against him as if their lives depend on it. "And you—?"

"Something hit me," replies Gray, "But I'm fine."

He rolls off Abel with some evident difficulty, coughing as he lands on the wooden floor with a grunt. Abel doesn't want to move, but Gray's on his feet right away and he's reaching down to help Abel up. He doesn't want to admit that he'd rather they just hide on the floor together for a little longer, so he turns to examine the damage.

The backroom's a mess. Shelves of preserved foodstuff and wine all crashed to the floor and smashed across it. A large chunk of the wall has collapsed, blocking the trapdoor, and exposing the backroom to the sunny world beyond.

He's shaking even before he realizes he can't see Fei at all.

"Abel? Argent?"

But he can hear her. He rushes to the debris, Gray on his heels, and kneels to find a small opening beneath the mess. A shelf has fallen onto the trapdoor, keeping wood and stone from falling in. There's enough of an opening for them to talk, but he can't see her through it.

"Fei—are you all right?" he calls down to her.

"Badra's injured from pulling me down, but we're all in one piece," comes the reply, her voice quivering.

Abel doesn't hold back a sigh of relief, but now that he surveys the debris...he shakes his head. "The wall's completely blocked this off. You three continue on to the school," he says, "Argent and I will go get Ababa and we'll find our own way."

"Oh, he's not going to like this," comes Badmada's voice.

"He's not got much of a choice," replies Fei. "Abel, Argent, we'll see you soon."

"Right. S-see you soon." Abel's feeling a little sick as he steps back from the trapdoor. The tunnels under the city should be safe, but he can't ignore the worry gnawing at him. It twines with his anger and terror, as, gazing at the debris again, he realizes that significant chunks of his home are being destroyed. Who knows how badly the lounge itself has fared by now?

"C'mon, let's find Ababa," says Gray, tugging on his arm. The contact is comforting, and he wonders if this is how Gray had felt just moments ago, when the howling had started.

He turns away from the hole in the wall, away from the bright green trees and bright blue sky. It's a wonderful day outside, but it's not for them.

"I swear, if they've wrecked my office too..." Abel starts grumbling, earning a quiet, perhaps nervous, chuckle from Gray. He supposes it really isn't something to be worked up over, but he built this home himself. Surely, he's entitled to more than just a little anger.

"Chief!" The door swings open to reveal Quade, face pale and looking far more disheveled than ever. She's breathing heavily as she rushes past them both, halting abruptly before the big pile of debris. "Aw, what happened here?"

"Wall exploded," says Gray, "We're lucky whoever did that hasn't come to check the damage."

"Did Armada get out in time?" she asks, gaze turned downwards.

"Yes," answers Abel, at the same time that Gray says, "No."

They pause, and look to each other. Abel blinks at him in surprise, but Gray shakes his head. Quade turns to them, looking puzzled by the obviously conflicting answers.

"Which is it?" Her tone is quiet.

"He's gone," says Gray before Abel can answer. "Abel's trying to spare your feelings, but it's...it's better if you heard it sooner than later. I'm sorry."

Quade starts to shake. Abel makes to reach over and comfort her, but Gray catches him by the wrist. He's shaking his head again, and Abel furrows his brow as he tries to discern just _what_ Gray's doing here. For as long as Abel's known her, Quade has been a staunch admirer of the hero known as Armada. It's not hard to guess how she's feeling right now.

"Quade," starts Abel, trying to wiggle his arm out of Gray's suddenly tight grip. "I—"

She turns around, raises a light blue B-daman, and fires twice.

Abel lets out an undignified yelp as Gray shoves him to the floor and he lands against a row of barrels. His savior grunts as he takes the brunt of a B-daball in his shoulder. Abel scrambles back and somehow manages to get on his feet again, but Gray steps before him, facing down Quade.

It all happens too quickly. Abel isn't sure how much more of this day he can take, particularly without a drink in hand.

"Quade...why?" he chokes out.

She doesn't answer. The B-daman is simply raised and pointed at Gray.

"Look at her eyes," growls out Gray in the harshest tone he's taken yet. His stance shifts. Even without a B-daman, he's ready to fight, and Abel would expect no less from him. "Her...Her B-daspirit's all wrong too. She's under _his_ third eye's control."

"Your new boyfriend's correct, Abby."

The voice comes from the hole in the wall, where a young man now stands blocking out the light. Abel recognizes the dark hair, the smarmy grin, and the leather jacket immediately—it's the head of the B-daplayer group and constant thorn in his side, Kieran. Behind him are several of the Hounds, near-identical dogfolk growling intently in their direction. Each wears sunglasses and each is garbed entirely in black.

Abel swallows, though his throat is so dry. For the past week, Tux took it upon himself to misdirect the Hounds every night they were active. If they're here, then...

"Let Quade go," demands Gray.

Kieran laughs, and hops over the debris, picking his way from piece to piece so he can come stand next to Quade. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and had Abel not believed Gray, he would now from the way she is unresponsive. Quade has a habit of dodging the B-daplayers, and this one in particular is always quick to anger her.

"Sorry lad, I'm under orders," replies Kieran with a smile. It's a familiar look on him, one that makes Abel's skin crawl. "And so is she. We're to bring you back to the Governor-General while my pals back there take care of the resistance scum."

"What would the Governor-General want with me?" asks Gray, just barely feigning innocence. His tone swiftly turns fierce again. "I'm just Quade's brother. Got into town a week ago. Now— _get your slimy hands off my sister_."

Kieran bursts into laughter, then shakes his head.

"Who're you trying to fool?" he says with a grin. "It might work on the townsfolk around here but I actually _know_ Quade. Nice try. You're Gray Michael Vincent, and there's no convincing anyone here otherwise." He pauses, then reaches into a pocket on his jacket and pulls out something unfamiliar to Abel. "Speaking of nice tries..."

When he holds it up, Gray visibly goes rigid. It's a little purple device that looks to Abel like a pair of wings, with a single white eye set into its center. Given Gray's reaction, he suspects this is something from the war.

"You _wouldn't_ —" hisses Gray.

Kieran waves the device around with a sneer. "Yeah, you'd recognize this, wouldn't you? Well, turns out the Hounds don't like being given the runaround. That catfolk bartender you got friendly with? He's in here, and I'm sure you can figure out what'll happen to him if you don't come quietly."

Abel gasps. Tux is in that device, how ever that works, but the threat is clear even if he doesn't understand it. "You...you rat!"

"Careful, Abby," he replies, winking. "You don't want me to drop Tux. Granted, you can always just find another bartender again, can't you?"

"Stop it," says Gray, lowering his hands and relaxing his posture. "I'll go with you."

Abel moves without thinking, coming up behind Gray. He places a hand on his arm again, and just like before Abel doesn't want to let go. "No, you can't—"

"I'm not letting anyone die for me." There's that harsh edge again in Gray's voice, and he pulls away from Abel's grip sharply. He strides forward, not even glancing back at Abel.

Gray picks his way past Kieran. Quade turns, expression still blank as she follows his motion with her B-daman. Abel grimaces, then starts after them, only for Kieran to grab his shoulder with one gloved hand.

"Stay back, Abby," sneers Kieran. He shoves Abel back, sending him staggering, then waves the device before him. "It's gotta pain you to know this, but the Governor-General didn't give us orders to bring you along. You're just not as important as you think you are."

Abel barely manages to steady himself on the barrels once more. He grits his teeth, his patience waning with each passing moment. He's learned not to engage with Kieran and let others handle his barbs, but, in this moment, Abel can't help but hiss back at him, "At least I don't need the Governor-General's help to actually _be_ someone important to others. What have you built with your own hands, Kieran?"

Kieran stares at him for a long moment. Then he's holding the device high again. "You know what? He didn't say I couldn't bring you along either."

The eye starts to pulse and glow and Abel—Abel is frozen. He can't move. He can't speak. His gaze lands on Gray's back, almost out the broken wall, where he will be greeted with the Hounds heralding his doom. With everything he's built coming down with a crash, perhaps it's enough that Fei got away...

Cries sound out from the Hounds, and there's barely a moment for Abel to look over and see them all falling to the ground before Ababa comes flying past Gray and Quade. He connects with Kieran feet first, sending the B-daplayer crashing to the ground with a startled yell.

"No B-daplayer _I_ trained would have been this sloppy," says Ababa. He reaches down and plucks the device from Kieran's twitching hand, striding across his back to reach Abel. "We'll take to the woods."

"Stop!" shouts Quade, swiveling to fire at Ababa.

He turns and throws a shield at her, sending the B-daballs ricocheting. The shield rushes at her, slamming into her, but it keeps going, taking her toward the open wall. Gray dives across the debris, barely dodging her and the shield as they continue into the Hounds rising to their feet.

Abel exhales deeply, then looks down to meet Ababa's gaze.

"Th-Thank you for the save," he says.

Ababa nods, tossing his disheveled hair back. "We'll escape out the front. The B-daplayers there should still be asleep."

"Right." Abel looks over to Gray picking his way back to them, then down to Kieran unmoving on the floor. He takes another deep breath as his nerves slowly wind down. They aren't safe yet, but it's at least better when Kieran isn't actively provoking him. Or trying to put him in that strange device.

He can only hope the others _did_ safely escape.

***

Gray looks up at the B-daplayer school and can't help but grimace. It's not much more than a ruin nowadays. The grand wall that runs in a half-circle around the school is pocked with holes where bricks have fallen out and vines and moss have threaded themselves through and around. The towers beyond it still reach to the sky, but they too are marked with the passing of time and covered in greenery.

"Wait," says Ababa, stopping Abel from striding any closer to the school. "It's best we do this out here." He takes out the the shadow cell. Gray grimaces at the sight of Ababa holding one up, remembering enough about them to find this moment eerie. The cells had been temporary carriers for the real source of his dark powers back then, and then later turned into a weapon of their own. That he would now be the one to try and reverse their effect...

They wait. And wait.

"C'mon, Ababa," says Gray, frowning. His shoulder aches where Quade had hit him and his back where debris had struck across, but this is a more immediate concern. "Let him out."

Ababa holds the cell out to him. "You're welcome to try it yourself, but you'll find it impossible," he says. "The cell's empty."

"What—" Gray grabs the cell, turning to meet Abel's wide-eyed gaze. He senses it even before he holds it up as he once did so long ago. Without thinking, he drops it and recoils from the cell. "It...It _is_ empty."

"What does it mean, then?" asks Abel, turning pale. "Where's Tux?"

"Either dead or in another cell," replies Ababa without skipping a beat. "It'll be the latter if they want to have something to hold over us."

"We have to go back for him and Quade." Gray turns to head back the way they just came, only pausing as he's struck by the sight before him. Lines of trees between them and the town (did they really run all that way without stopping? It's difficult to believe), and beyond those trees, the manor from which he had gazed out into this same world.

"You two can go back and try to rescue them," says Ababa curtly, "But I didn't help you escape all this way just to let you walk back into their hands. I _will_ stop you."

"No, wait," says Abel, "I think going back for them is a bad idea too."

Gray turns to him sharply. He looks absolutely ragged. His hair is a mess, and his suit is torn in various places. His face is still pale. Gray wouldn't be surprised if he looks similar too.

"But..."

Abel shakes his head, then swallows. His hands are quivering, but he finds his resolve and balls them up into fists at his sides. "It's too risky, Gray. Neither of us has a B-daman. What can we do like this? What can we do to...to save Quade and Tux both, as we are now?"

A breeze flits past them, just barely touching the plateau they stand upon. Gray feels it anyway, acutely making out the wind's westward travel.

He has to admit that Abel's right, and once again he has to acknowledge that he is powerless.

"Gray, Abel," says Ababa quietly, "I promise—we _will_ come back for them with all the resistance's power."

It might be the best that he can ask for right now. Gray grimaces and forces himself to turn away from the city. Ababa nods, offering him a poor attempt at a sympathetic smile, before gesturing at them both to head into the abandoned school. His stomach twists, but it might not just be from hunger, even as he realizes he hasn't eaten at all today. The thought of letting Ababa lead him again gives him pause, but then Abel comes up to him and takes his hand.

The worry melts away for now, and they head inside in silence, hand in each other's.


	5. Interlude: Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This interlude is pretty much OC-driven, oops. Hopefully it's not too obtuse. Future interludes won't be purely OCs!
> 
> ACT 2 is next, hope you're all ready :^)

Fei lets Tuxnell wrap his arms around her as they huddle together on the balcony of Electron City's city hall. The thick lattice of the railing obscures them from anyone in the plaza below, but lets them peer through to watch the events unfolding.

The air is crackling as darkness sweeps across the sky. Uneasiness flits through the rows of B-daplayers all lined up in the plaza below, perhaps more than a hundred in all, but the young man at their head does not react. Dressed in his signature golden waistcoat, his hands clasped behind his back, and his nest of moss hued hair, Master Yannes of the Shadow Alliance is his usual impeccably arranged self.

There's a terrible cracking noise, and a boy appears in the air above him. Fei's breath catches as the air just _stills_ , and the world changes. The sky turns a wondrous but horrifying red, stars twinkling in the expanse above Electron City's far reaching spires and chimneys. She'd never thought she would see them here, where electric lights shone day and night and the city illuminated the sky itself.

 _'What in the actual B-damage's name?'_ hisses Tuxnell over their open telepathic line. _'That ain't our night sky! It ain't right, it ain't—'_

"Master Biarce," says Yannes, bowing to greet the boy. Even from the balcony, Fei can make out the unnatural bright red of his eyes. She can only imagine Yannes' face, his mysterious iris-less eyes gazing back into those red, while a many toothed grin graces his lips.

"These are all the B-daplayers in your city?" asks Biarce, gazing down at the restless crowd. None of them break rank, even as tension weighs down on them. Past the plaza, Fei can just make out others watching from their windows, and she wonders how many of them are families about to break into pieces.

Fei wonders if the B-daplayers are all under a spell too, as she shifts in place and lets Tuxnell press against her back, his fur lightly tickling the back of her neck. Just an hour before all this began, Yannes had smiled his kind smile and told them to wait here until he says it's clear. She didn't miss the shimmer of magic that passed from him to Tuxnell and then her, breaking the promise that he would never cast his spells on either of them.

She's since settled from anger into irritation, stuck on the balcony until he breaks the spell, but she knows he wouldn't have done this if the situation didn't call for it. Since the day she met Yannes and he took her into the Shadow Alliance and under his wing not even five years ago, she's never known him to break a promise like this. Tuxnell had flooded her mind with his explosive anger, but he's always been faster to forgive than her.

"Down to the last man," says Yannes, gesturing behind him dismissively. "And their B-daspirits are all yours for the taking."

That's when the shouting and crying starts, as the B-daplayers realize what's going on. Fei winces, and she's glad to be up here than down there, and suddenly it makes sense why she and Tuxnell are being kept at a safe distance.

Even here in the northernmost city, the Neo-Shadow Alliance's rapid expansion across the B-daworld has not gone unnoticed. News from the south tends to come slow, but Yannes seemed to know immediately when the Shadow Alliance fell, and then a few weeks later, the Neo-Shadow Alliance...

Fei holds her breath as soldiers—faceless, robotic creatures—come marching out of an alley. How did Biarce even get them here?

She barely remembers to breathe when the soldiers raise their identical B-daman and start firing. Tuxnell pulls her closer to him, and she doesn't resist, letting him cover her eyes as the screams come, then they're all cut short abruptly, and the plaza falls silent as only statues remain.

"Let me ask you again, was that all the B-daplayers in your city?"

Fei freezes as Tuxnell's fuzzy hands fall from her eyes, and she can feel him tense up too. She leans forward, peering through the lattice. The boy is gazing down at her master with a cold, impassive look, one that sends a chill down her own spine.

Yannes doesn't waver. "Of course it was," he lies as smoothly as if he were simply stating an immutable fact about himself. "I rounded them all up myself, Master Biarce."

"You're lying." Nothing in Biarce's posture and expression changes. He simply hovers there. "Master Ababa allowed you to keep two aides. Where are they?"

Fei senses the magic keeping her on the balcony break just as Biarce raises his gaze to meet hers.

"Fuck," breathes out Tuxnell.

In the years to come, she won't remember much of what happens next. Their escape out of the city consists of Tuxnell pulling her by the wrist and lifting her when she can't run. They rush through alleys and into the mountains outside the city— _their_ city, her city, the city she tore down from the inside years ago so that her master could rebuild it for himself.

She won't remember much of their escape, but she'll remember those eyes gazing into her, as if he were already stealing her B-daspirit from her.

***

They're on the outskirts of the next town, several mountains and almost a week of careful travel later, when Tuxnell stops and turns to her and takes Platinum Rose off its holster at his thigh.

He holds the black and white B-daman in the palm of his hand and gazes down at it mournfully.

"We can't keep them, Fei," he says.

Fei pales. She reaches down slowly, to where Sapphire Rose is in its holster, where its weight has been a constant companion all these years alongside the owners of its two brothers.

She knows what Tuxnell is saying. If they hold onto either of their roses, the Neo-Shadow Alliance will never stop coming for them.

"We can't smash them," she says, a lump forming in her throat. "They're all we have left of..." She trails off and lets what's unsaid linger. It isn't hard to guess that Master Yannes is gone too, like the hundreds of B-daplayers he'd betrayed.

Tuxnell closes both his eyes and inhales deeply, and she guesses that he's also holding back his tears. It's a wonder, really, how far he's come. She remembers their early days together, new recruits to the Shadow Alliance under a special directive at Yannes' request. Tuxnell, as she remembered it, had been a big crybaby.

Fei can't help but smile, thinking of those happier days when it was the three of them and their three roses and this...this war or whatever it was hadn't come yet.

"Let's bury them," she says, swallowing down the lump in her throat. They have to keep moving. "We'll come back for them later."

They bury the B-daman in their holsters, knowing that even wearing the empty belts could turn them into targets. They walk into town together and her steps should have been light, but Fei feels like there's a greater weight on her now.

***

There are rumors of heroes, of souls braver than others, fighting back against the Neo-Shadow Alliance.

Fei and Tuxnell are holed up in a saloon with other refugees from the north, survivors who were never B-daplayers and who had nothing to take, in Cowtoon, where the streets outside are lined with statues that had once been the living, when news comes that Neon City has fallen. It is where those heroes had gathered and dared to take the final stand against Biarce and his armies.

Several hours later, the world starts to shake.

When they emerge as the quakes settle, the air is still. The landscape around Cowtoon has changed. The vast desert has upended on itself and turned into jagged hills. Cowtoon sits precariously between peaks.

The townsfolk panic in the face of the changed world, so Fei just lets Tuxnell take her by the hand and start the new climb out of town.

***

Tuxnell loses his eye protecting her from a newly formed gang of bandits, sometime between Cowtoon and Carlitoville.

She fights off the remaining few herself while he staggers away, and she reaches backwards for the her from not even two weeks ago, when she was still a weapon forged for the Shadow Alliance, and not just another girl on the run. She takes the unused knife hidden in her boot and slits the throat of each bandit that Tuxnell didn't kill and leaves them to bleed into the dusty road.

She tends to Tuxnell's eye herself after that, then carries him into Carlitoville on her shoulders when he turns feverish. They only have a single nurse who does her best because the town's one doctor is a statue outside the clinic door now. Fei kind of starts liking this friendly lady nurse, but she's an outsider in a time of chaos and when she finds honest work, it's to cart around the statues of B-daplayers to the mass grave, where she leaves them standing in the same poses of terror they had been frozen in. Their unseeing gazes haunt her nightmares and she dreams of Electron City's red sky with all the wrong stars and she wakes and decides it'll be a long time before she lets anyone but Tuxnell into the remaining half of her heart again. Her master took the other half with him, after all.

Tuxnell wakes up and gets slightly better, wears an eyepatch over his eye, and they manage to eke out a life in tiny Carlitoville, which only gets smaller over the next year as people live for the greener pastures of the neighboring Banques.

When the soldiers finally come, it's to announce Carlitoville is under the jurisdiction of one Lord Marda-Biarce.

Fei and Tuxnell make sure to disappear that night.

***

It's only in the Banques—in pastoral little Sconesville—they learn how extensive the damage to the Cowtoon region was. Entire swathes of what had once been deserts turned into impassable mountain ranges, cities and towns within instantly being cut off from the rest of the world until Lord Marda-Biarce sends his troops from the city he's building over the ruins of Neon City. _New Meowlantis_ he demands they call it.

And here in the Banques, a man called Joshua has taken hold of the entire region. The _Governor-General_ , he styles himself, and it isn't long after Fei and Tuxnell arrive in the region that he closes the borders and stops the flow of people fleeing from Marda-Biarce's rule.

They travel and do more odd work and months, maybe years, pass too quickly. Fei learns to stop thinking too hard about the statues she and Tuxnell cart away, or the debris they clears, or the structures in the B-Centers that they tear down. It's easier not to think about how these things were part of the world before, the world they left behind with their roses.

Tuxnell is all she has left of it, and he seems to think the same of her. He's become quiet, brooding, in the years since their escape, but he holds onto her tight at night and wraps his arms around her, just as he did all those years ago on that balcony overlooking the plaza. He's still the same gentle boy, the same as he was when they were children. Fei's not sure she's changed much herself either.

And when they find shelter during their travels, people assume they are husband and wife, and neither of them bother to correct this even if Fei's never been interested in a _husband_ and Tuxnell has never been interested in a _wife_.

They have only each other left, and if the world decides putting a name like _husband and and wife_ to that is the only reason they have to be together, then she'll take it, and it lets her ignore too the still-missing half of her heart.

***

She's just finished unloading another statue into the graveyard outside Sconesville when Tuxnell suddenly elbows her hard.

"Fei! Ain't that Master Ababa?"

She turns, and it is.

The tyrian catfolk is standing at the edge of the graveyard, gazing out into the sea of statues. Fei almost doesn't recognize him, his long lavender hair something new and unusual to her, but the way he carries himself is the same, and the way he grimaces is equally familiar.

Before she even realizes what she's doing, she's dropped the rope in her hands and she's racing past statues and hurrying to him.

"Master Ababa!" shouts Tuxnell from beside her, startling him.

Ababa's gaze comes down to the two of them racing toward him, surprise overtaking his face. He blinks as they skid to a half before him, the two of them panting to catch their breath. Fei suspects she's out of shape compared to her B-daplayer days.

"Master—Master Ababa," gasps out Tuxnell.

"I—" Ababa frowns, eyes narrowing as he takes in the two of them. "I must apologize, my memory is not what it was. You two were...Shadow Alliance agents?"

"Yes," chokes out Fei. Something in her chest tightens, as she gazes down at one tiny piece of the old B-daworld. They had only been children the last time they met. Before she can stop herself, her deepest regret comes spilling out. "Master Ababa, w-we threw away the B-daman you gave us...just so we could escape during the war."

Ababa's gaze softens, and Fei thinks she sees pity in his eyes. He's truly different if he can gaze upon her with so gentle a look. "You're...Fei?" he says cautiously, and when she nods, he continues with a faint smile, "We've all done what's needed to survive."

He turns to Tuxnell and ventures a guess. "...Darar?"

"I go by Tux," he answers quietly. "Master Ababa—"

"Just Ababa will suffice."

"...Ababa," says Tux, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I thought...I thought everyone in the Shadow Alliance was gone. I heard that you disappeared, and then nearly all our agents were killed—"

Fei looks up at him in surprise. This is the first time she's heard him speak of the time before in years. Since losing his eye, he has only turned forward.

"Let's speak of this somewhere more private," says Ababa, voice dropping to a near-whisper. He pauses, then looks out into the graveyard again, before turning his gaze back onto them. "And if you're through hauling the dead around and letting this world without B-daman continue like this...I'd like you to meet my new master."

Fei agrees to go with him without another thought. Tuxnell doesn't hesitate either.

***

***

"So...what's the story there?" asks Abel as Tux swaggers on back to the bar.

Fei looks up from the till and blinks at the teen in his lovely red suit. The lounge won't be opening for another hour, but she's surprised that he'swandering around instead of getting ready anyway. "Sorry?"

Abel immediately looks sheepish. Since her and Tux's arrival in the lounge just a month ago, Fei's learned quickly that their new boss is swift to ask questions but even swifter to regret them. He's had the lounge for a year or so now, but it does make her wonder how he's managed it all on his own.

"Sorry, I saw him, er, kiss you," he admits, "And I've been curious since. It's nothing you have to answer, of course!"

Fei rolls her eyes. He does have a lot to learn. She's doesn't think she's the right person to teach him, even if Ababa believes otherwise. She's no brilliant mind at taking control of an operation like this, not like her first master.

"I hope you don't go around asking all your employees about their personal lives," she tells him with a smile. "But to answer your question, the story is that it's nothing romantic. Tux and I just...have had only each other for so long, affection with each other is second nature to us. I suppose I just don't think I'll ever care about anyone else the way I do for him, and I suspect he feels the same way."

"Ah," says Abel, and he's quiet for a long moment. Fei uses the silence to continue working. When he finally breaks it, he apologizes again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry..."

"I know," she replies.

"Hey chief!" shouts Tux from the bar, waving to them with a glass of something red sloshing everywhere. "I've got a new drink I want you to try!"

Abel winces and he's scurrying over to Tux to get him to stop that, and maybe try to convince him to stop drinking before the lounge even opens. Fei doesn't mind that their conversation's been cut short, and she can't help but chuckle as she sits back in her chair. What's likely to happen is both Tux and Abel getting drunk in the middle of their fight, and Fei's glad that Tux seems to regard him with friendship.

Yannes would have liked him, she thinks, because it's not everyone who can take control of their life the way he has with the lounge.

***

"They should be here soon," says Badra, as Fei peers out the school window once more. Their escape from the lounge had been terrifying, but they were safe here, in the B-daplayer school, for now.

"I know," she replies, "Master Ababa'll keep them safe, but it's just...it's Tux I'm worried about."

The catfolk blinks. "Your husband? The catfolk with one eye?"

"Is that what they tell you we're like?" asks Fei, glancing at her sharply. She laughs. "Yes, him. Abel asked him to misdirect the Hounds, so..."

"He'll turn up," says Badra, giving her a kind smile. She places one furred hand on Fei's shoulder. "Ababa's told me about you two. He'll find his way back to you, I'm sure of it."

"Yes," says Fei, "You're right." She steps away from the window, and nods. "We always find our way to each other."


	6. Temporicide 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arc 2 finally begins! the trauma continues  
> I'll add a title card to this chapter one day, but for now, let's go

Time does not pass in the manor, of this Gray is certain. Mornings and evenings merge into one, and it's only his occasional time spent with Joshua—meals, evenings, and mornings after—that breaks up his days. The silence makes it worse, punctuated only by screams that come every so often at night.

Time does not pass, but it does mark itself on his body. He catches sight of himself in a mirror one morning, as he's putting on his shirt—a light blue button-down today, far less frills than yesterday's—and he's struck so suddenly by how he feels too tall, too big for himself. The Gray standing in the mirror stares back at him, moving its arms when he does, frowning when he does.

He tears his gaze away, staring down instead at the pristinely arranged and uncluttered dresser. It's hard to say what he would have been if the war hadn't ended the way it had, but he knows at least that it wouldn't be whatever he is now.

Hands gently come down on his shoulders, and Gray tenses. Joshua has awoken as well, and Gray can't even guess what he might want right now. He doesn't even dare look back up to the mirror.

He's surprised then, when Joshua's hands leave his shoulders and his arms wrap around him instead. He reaches for the front of Gray's shirt, and nimble fingers start to fasten the buttons for him. Gray blinks, unable to stop himself from looking up, and only tenses further when he sees in the mirror—Joshua, still shirtless, with his arms around him, helping him, a kind smile on his face despite the intensity of his gaze, the third eye still closed from his just having woken up.

Gray's heart flutters when he almost mistakes the sight for something _real_ and _right_.

"I can do that myself." He steps away, out of Joshua's arms, and turns to glare at him. Whatever strange fantasy Joshua likes to play out with him isn't a real romance, he reminds himself. It's all just part of the endless mind game meant to torture him for his failures so long ago.

Joshua says nothing, only reaching to the dresser to take his own fresh set of clothes. They dress in silence, Gray refusing to look at him again the entire time. It'll be another day of him finding something to do with himself in the manor...

"Do you believe then," starts Joshua suddenly, but his voice is not quite what it should be, "That what you have with my brother is more _real_ and _right_ than what I give you?"

Gray whirls around, and he's standing in the ruined lounge, and Joshua is giving him a placid look.

He opens his mouth to answer and blinks awake instead.

***

It takes Gray a moment to remember why he's woken up in a tent beside Abel and not in bed back at the lounge, enough time for him to carefully crawl outside, trying not to wake Abel after taking a moment to appreciate his cute sleeping face. The moon is still high in the sky, visible over the clearing they've set up camp in, but their fire is still going, tended to by the lone catfolk sitting at its side, before his own tent. Gray stretches, then strides around to sit down on the grass across from him.

"Nightmares?" asks Ababa gently, over the flames between them.

Gray recoils at the question. It's harmless enough, simple enough, but that it comes from Ababa of all people...no matter how many times he reminds himself Ababa has changed, there's still that constant twisting in his stomach over the mere thought of trusting him.

"...yeah," he says after a moment, and he lets them lapse into silence again, refusing to offer more than that. As the cackling of the flames fills the moonlit air, Gray starts to think he shouldn't have sat down. Maybe he should even have tried harder to _not_ travel with Ababa, when they'd been working out how to travel separately back in the B-daplayer school and had just decided to continue as they already were. There'd been supplies hidden away in the school, so they'd gone straight back into the forest and there hadn't been time for him to protest.

"Do you remember," starts Ababa, "The last time we spoke before the war—properly, and not from across a tournament arena?"

Gray looks to him sharply. He doesn't need to stop and think to know the answer. "I don't."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't." Ababa chuckles, gaze dropping down to the fire. Its light dances in his eyes. "Unfortunate then, that I do not remember either. There must have been plenty I said and did that I should apologize for now, but I do remember what I did to you and your—"

"Stop," says Gray, and it slips from him in a harsher tone than he meant.

Ababa looks up at him in surprise, ears standing tall.

"Look," Gray starts, and his stomach twists as all the questions he had earlier disappear. He finds himself staring at the fire too, taking a moment to turn his thoughts over. This isn't like in the lounge, when he and Ababa weren't alone. "There isn't much I remember from back then. Definitely not some conversation we had in the middle of...everything going on. But I remember one thing, Ababa: I hated you. I think I still do."

"Ah..." The catfolk's gaze drops once again.…

A twinge of guilt flits by for Gray, but he doesn't even pause to entertain it. If Ababa wants this to be some sort of heartfelt talk, then Gray isn't going to hold back. It wouldn't be fair otherwise, not for Ababa and not for himself.

"Don't ask me to forgive you for _anything_ from back then," says Gray, "Because you won't like the answer."

Ababa's expression twists into a wry smile. "Duly noted," he says, bowing his head to Gray. "I shall not bring it up again, if that is your wish."

"Yeah," answers Gray.

"Then let us discuss something else." Ababa's gaze flicks up to him, and when Gray nods, he reaches for his pack. Gray watches, unable to shake off a few feelings of suspicion, as Ababa pulls out some sort of rolled up sheet.

"What's that?"

Ababa's smile turns sly as he rises to his feet, then comes over to sit by Gray. He unrolls the sheet and holds it up, letting the firelight pass through it so Gray can see it clearly.

It's a detailed map of the B-daworld.

But...everything about it is wrong. Entire tracts of land to the west, where Tsubakura City once stood, have become water, and the vast desert plains around Cowtoon appear mountainous instead. Even the areas around Laiken have changed, the rivers that once crossed it now looping around it instead. Gray searches down the center of the map, quickly identifying Banker City nestled among hills, but the mountains to its north have disappeared, opening up an easy route to where Wintoon had once been isolated. A massive crater and a number of towns now dot the large stretch of land even further north, where a frozen, uninhabitable wasteland had once been. And its opposite extreme, far down to the south, is the vast Pedro Kingdom, once a prosperous region, now a blank space on a map with a question mark drawn over it.

"That—This is fake," breathes Gray.

"It's very real, I'm afraid," says Ababa morosely, "This is the most accurate map we have of the B-daworld in its present state."

That's not what he hoped to hear. Gray frowns as he reexamines the map, committing what he can of it to memory, even if it's all wrong, even if his mind is protesting and telling him—that shouldn't be there, those aren't mountains, there weren't any cities there before—

"You know," says Ababa, "You must be the first person I've shown this to whose gaze did not settle on any one place. Few were those who traveled the way you and your friends did, fewer still who would mourn losing the entire world, not just their home."

"Guess that makes me lucky or something," remarks Gray with a grimace. He looks away from the map, only to find himself frowning and turning back to it. "Wait, just how did this happen?"

"How else when something goes this horribly wrong in our lives?" Ababa shakes his head and pulls the sheet away, rolling it up and returning it to his pack. "It was Marda-B's will. The actual _how_ is a mystery to us beyond obviously some form of magic, but it began a little over a year after he established his seat of power. With the world changed so drastically, it was certainly easy for his two generals to move in and establish themselves in the Banques and in the west."

"...Joshua," says Gray, voice wavering. Faint flashes of memory come to him, of being led into an airship, of the first few days or months in Ruth Manor, of sighting soldiers circling the city from a manor balcony, of being alone far more often as Joshua disappeared for some reason or the other.

"And Li," adds Ababa, making Gray freeze. "There appears to be one other ruling general, but we have so little information on Pedro Kingdom that isn't clearly fabricated..."

He trails off, perhaps when he notices Gray isn't listening anymore.

 _And Li_. Gray sits there, trying to recall the last time he saw his friends. Surely it was before the airship? But he's spent so long trying to forget as much as he can, that none of the memories come when called. He breathes deep. It _must_ have been after his defeat, but curiously, there isn't much he can remember of that either. All he knows is...

Joshua's face looms over him, gazing down at him with impassive attentiveness, one gloved hand under his chin, the other on his arm. He can't move. He can't...

"Gray!"

His vision blurs and then all too suddenly clears, and Joshua's face resolves into Abel's instead. Hands on his shoulders, shaking him. Abel's brow knit together in worry; those beautiful blue eyes gazing at him with a flurry of emotion.

Gray just breathes. He lets himself drink in Abel's features, and reminds himself for the umpteenth time that he isn't Joshua and they're nowhere near the manor. He's still in their grassy little clearing, sitting before the fire.

Abel is crouching to meet his gaze. Ababa is hovering nearby, radiating nervousness as he watches them.

"Gray, it's okay," says Abel, leaning in to wrap his arms around him. Gray lets him, breathing deeply in Abel's hold, realizing only now how he'd slipped into panic. He feels his body start to relax, so he reaches around Abel to hug him back loosely.

Ababa clears his throat. "It may be for the best if you both return to your tent," he says, and the tone he takes is strangely gentle. "We'd best be on the road again early in the morning."

Protests form on Gray's lips, but Abel rising to his feet and holding his hand down for him stops him from voicing them. He lets Abel lead him back inside, lays down beside him, and this time, thankfully, his sleep is dreamless.

***

Ababa does not relent from his promise of an early morning, and he does not bring up the map or Gray's friends again. The three of them travel along the forest roads, always alert for pursuers, but Gray finds himself distracted by the sheer number of people using the route. Most are on foot, but the occasional carriage drawn by mechanical horses runs by. They keep their distance and speak to none of their fellow travelers.

They make it to a small outpost by the road in time for a midday meal. Gray sits with Abel in the mess hall as they quietly dine on a hearty stew, watching as Ababa wanders away to strike up conversation with the few other patrons scattered about the hall. Gray blinks as Ababa's quickly surrounded by a handful of small children, all eager to talk to him and chase his long tail flitting side to side.

"I didn't think there'd be...so many people," Gray whispers to Abel, finally breaking the silence between them.

Abel startles at his words; perhaps he'd been a little lost in thought. "Oh, you mean along the road?" he asks, and when Gray nods, he continues, "Banker City's always been the richest place in the region, more so with...well, the Governor-General in control of it and all its markets, so we see a lot of people from the other towns going there to do business. Most of the folks on this road should be from Wintoon though."

Gray remembers seeing Wintoon on Ababa's map, indicated with a larger marker than the towns around Banker City.

"How _is_ Wintoon doing nowadays?" he asks.

"It's...getting by," says Abel, looking down at the remaining half of his stew thoughtfully. "It's the last town before you get to the other regions in that direction, so it's a busy place, but mostly New Meowlantis sees it as a military base. Why do you ask?"

"Wintoon's my hometown," admits Gray, even if the words feel like a lie passing through his lips. He has not been home for so long and his childhood is long but a poorly patched together quilt of memories.

Abel's eyes light up. "I didn't realize."

What _does_ he remember of Wintoon? Gray thinks of the proud windmills that adorned every building and the grassy rolling hills that blossomed into color every year. But he remembers those same things ruined and trampled by the first waves of Marda-B's war. They'd started to rebuild, hadn't they, when the rest of the war swept across the world not even a week later? Which version, then, of Wintoon remained, this long after?

"I never mentioned it before," replies Gray. His gaze drifts back to Ababa now sitting down with one of the families and chattering away with them. Gray doesn't bother hiding his frown. "What's...what's up with Ababa?"

Abel starts, as if he hadn't quite been listening despite just speaking a moment ago, but he follows Gray's gaze and smiles. "Oh, he's gathering information," answers Abel, "But also he just loves kids. He's the one who found me when, uh, I was younger."

"Huh," is all Gray can bring himself to remark. Abel evidently admires Ababa, but the Ababa he actually knew was decidedly not this kind to children. He pauses. "Wait, 'found you?'"

"Yes, I was...left on my own for a time after the end of the war," Abel takes a moment to finish off his meal. Gray doesn't miss the melancholy creeping onto his expression when he continues, "Ababa found me, took me in, and later helped me set up the lounge. I'd have nothing if not for him."

"You're giving me a little too much credit there, Abel."

It's Ababa, sliding into the seat across them.

Abel shakes his head. "I'm just telling the truth here."

They fall into an easy banter, so different from the tension that had been between them back in the lounge. Despite himself, Gray tunes it out, attention wandering toward the front of the mess hall where rabbitfolk staffwelcome and see off travelers. He watches as a catfolk comes running in, hurrying to the nearest staff member and whispering something to them.

To Gray's surprise and alarm, the staff member gestures in his and his companions' direction. The catfolk comes rushing over, pausing before their table to catch their breath. With a better look at them, Gray finds it curious that they're garbed in the same cloak that Ababa—and Badmada and Badra—wear.

"Yes?" asks Ababa. His ears twitch. Gray wonders if he recognizes this stranger.

"M-Master Ababa," pants out the catfolk. They prop themselves up against the table. "H-had to outrun—Soldiers passing through from Wintoon—"

Ababa's immediately on his feet. He thanks the other catfolk, who slumps into the newly unoccupied seat, before turning to Gray and Abel. "Come with me and say nothing till we're alone."

Gray exchanges a look with Abel, but he keeps quiet as instructed. They gather their packs of supplies and hurry after Ababa, following him out the front and around to the back of the building. Ababa holds a paw up, silencing them before they can even start to ask questions, and that's when Gray hears it: a thundering of footsteps from the direction they were headed, growing louder and louder, before suddenly coming to a halt.

"Why are they on the move?" whispers Abel, eyes widening.

"Surely not because of us." Ababa's brow knits together as he ventures to peer around the side of the building. He recoils immediately, putting one paw over his own mouth as he makes a muffled noise. Gray watches as he takes a moment to compose himself, his long tail behind him, usually held stationary, flicking to the side in obvious agitation.

"What is it?" Gray strides close, mirroring Ababa's prior movements to see what's going on.

"No, don't—"

He feels a paw pull at his arm, but it's too late.

Before him is the familiar sight of a multitude of mechanical Neo Shadow Alliance soldiers, all in rows and columns and facing straight ahead. Their eerily lifeless bodies stand rigid as they await further instruction from their commander.

As for their commander, sitting atop a platform on wheels in the midst of the troop, speaking inaudibly to a flesh-and-blood soldier who descends from the platform moments later and disappears into the outpost—their commander, standing to stretch, features in full view with the midday sun directly upon him, hair aflame where the light touches it, third eye swiveling in place—

Gray's blood runs cold as something tightens in his chest and throat.

"I'm sorry, Gray," says Ababa, but his voice is a distant blur.

Someone places a hand on his shoulder—Abel? It must be Abel—but when Gray turns, his vision is swimming and a swirling pit of emotions has formed in his stomach, making him unsteady on his feet. Faint memories of warmth and camaraderie and everything more flit past his mind, as if his body remembers what his mind refuses to, but even those slip past too quickly for him.

"Gray?" Abel's voice drifts to him from somewhere distant. "You're shivering—we need to get out of here before we're seen—"

Gray doesn't reply, not when he's gazing upon what's become of his dearest friend.

"Yamato..."


End file.
